


Kinkformers 2019

by Kiyuo_Honoo



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Beast Wars
Genre: Kinktober 2019, M/M, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2020-10-27 17:50:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 18,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20764463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiyuo_Honoo/pseuds/Kiyuo_Honoo
Summary: Kinktober 2019 is here and so are the kinky robots.





	1. Kinky Index

**Kinktober List**

Welcome to my list for Kinktober. Here's the index for what's to be expected! Any additional tags that go for that day will be in the notes of the chapters. If you don't like a ship or kink feel free to skip, remember the rule: don't like don't read. Each day and ship is going to be a different continuity which is listed. Hope y'all enjoy when it get's officially started tomorrow!

Day 1 — Cunnilingus [IDW | Grimlock/Misfire]

Day 2 — Voyeurism/Rimming [Prime | Starscream/Megatron]

Day 3 — Tentacles/Distention [Prime | Shockwave/Soundwave]

Day 4 — Gags/Fisting [G1 | Jazz/Wheeljack]

Day 5 — Bondage/Sixty-nine/Vibrator [IDW | Ultra Magnus/Rodimus]

Day 6 — Blow Jobs/Suspension [G1 | Starscream/Wheeljack]

Day 7 — Aphrodisiacs [IDW | Perceptor/Brainstorm]

Day 8 — Oviposition/Creampie [Beast Wars | Inferno/Waspinator]

Day 9 — Pet Play [IDW | Overlord/Rodimus]

Day 10 — Hate Fucking [IDW | Ratchet/Megatron]

Day 11 — Mirror Sex [G1 | Wheeljack/Hot Rod]

Day 12 — Biting [IDW | Overlord/Fortress Maximus]

Day 13 — Dirty Talk [IDW | Deadlock/Hot Rod]

Day 14 — Fucking Machine/Praise Kink [IDW | Seeker Trine/Rodimus]

Day 15 — Cuckolding/Food Play [Beast Wars | Rampage/Cheetor & Depth Charge/Cheetor]

Day 16 — Shibari [IDW | Ratchet/Drift]

Day 17 — Scars [Beast Wars | Dinobot/Cheetor]

Day 18 — Sthenolagnia/Blood [IDW | Ratchet/Deadlock]

Day 19 — Double Penetration [Prime/IDW | Skywarp/Starscream/Thundercracker]

Day 20 — Masturbation [G1 | Ironhide/Wheeljack]

Day 21 — Size Difference [IDW | Cyclonus/Tailgate]

Day 22 — Telepathy/Crying [G1 | Cassettes/Soundwave]

Day 23 — Collaring/Threesome [G1 | Ironhide/Ratchet/Wheeljack]

Day 24 — Begging/Anal [Prime | Predaking/Starscream]

Day 25 — Monsterfucking/Shower Sex [Beast Wars | Megatron/Inferno]

Day 26 — Breath Play/Orgasm Denial [Prime | Optimus Prime/Megatron]

Day 27 — Sex Pollen/Xenophilia [Beast Wars | Tarantulas/Cheetor]

Day 28 — Overstimulation/Incest [IDW | Sideswipe/Sunstreaker]

Day 29 — Hand Jobs/Oral Fixation/Micro-Macro [Beast Wars | Rattrap/Dinobot]

Day 30 — Temperature Play/Degradation [IDW | Tarn/Pharma]

Day 31 — <strike>Free Day!!</strike> A/B/O [IDW | Galvatron/Hot Rod]


	2. Day 1 - Cunnilingus [IDW Grimlock/Misfire]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Other tags/warnings for this chapter: Alt-mode Sexual Interfacing
> 
> Kinda knocked this one out in about two hours to get it out since I've been indecisive over this day since I was making the list, so I hope you guys enjoy it!
> 
> This was inspired by [kibahshi's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kibahshi/pseuds/kibahshi) [Like Sunlight](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13877934).

Draping himself over Grimlock’s shoulders, Misfire pressed his helm against the dinobot’s as he looked at whatever he was doing. The purple seeker tried to be patient in not disturbing his partner more than he already has but his squirming had Grimlock stopping and putting down the weapon he was messing with to turn his visored gaze at him. Misfire just grinned, placing a kiss on the masked face.

“Hi, Grimmy. So I was thinking and was wondering if you’d be up for trying something.” He purred, optics falling to half-mast as he gazed at the yellow visor. Grimlock tilted his helm slightly before nodding in a ‘go on’ motion Misfire had come to learn. He bit his lip and squirmed some more before finally just blurting it out.

“I want you to eat me out in your altmode.” He denta clicked as he snapped his jaw shut, nerves now racking his frame as he waited for a response. His frame tensed as his processor anticipated either being completely ignored or a negative reaction. What he didn’t expect was for Grimlock’s visor to suddenly brighten as his engine rumbled loudly.

The purple seeker scurried back as Grimlock pushed his chair back and stood, towering over him by a good few feet. Misfire squeaked as he was grabbed and thrown over the dinobot’s broad shoulder as the mech walked the short distance to their shared berth before dropping him on it. He let out an ‘oof’ at the impact, optics brightening and zeroing in on the larger mech as a transformation sequence echoed in the room.

Biting the corner of his bottom lip as a smile spread on his faceplate, Misfire watched as Grimlock, now in his altmode, gave himself a shake before prowling forward. He laid that massive head on the berth right between the seekers spread legs, steam billowing out of those wide nostrils as he exvented.

Shaking as the heat of Grimlock’s exvent brushed across his codpiece, Misfire let his valve cover slide away to reveal his sopping array. Color bloomed across his cheeks and nose as lubricant spilled out and made an audible noise as it puddled onto the berth. Well, that was embarrassing.

It didn’t seem to bother Grimlock as the dinobot slid his head forward, sniffing at the mess collecting on the berth before shoving his snout right into Misfire’s valve. The seeker yelped, legs slamming closed around Grimlock’s head even though it didn’t deter the T-rex from rubbing his snout in his valve lips, smearing lubricant all over his olfactory area.

His vocalizer let out static as a broad tongue licked up his valve lips, pressing between on the second sweep and gathering up lubricant that continued to spill out. Clenching the mesh sheets by his head, Misfire twisted his fists, his helm thrown back as moans and whimpers started to spill past his lips at each swipe of that gloriously broad glossa.

The dinobot’s engine revved as he pushed his head closer, forcing those purple legs of his head and open wider. Sliding open his maw wide, Grimlock slid his jaws around his partner’s raised hips until he had the seeker's entire pelvis in his jaw. Carefully closing his jaw so his teeth rested against purple plating, he dragged his glossa up Misfire’s valve, pressing hard against his throbbing node.

On his next swipe, he forced his glossa past those lips swollen with energon and shoved right into the jet’s valve entrance. The movement got him the reaction he was waiting for. Grimlock kept his jaws clamped lightly around the pelvic unit as the smaller mech arched up, hips pressing down against the broad organ shoved up his valve.

Purring, Grimlock started thrusting his glossa in and out, enjoying the taste of his partner’s lubricant as it practically flooded out of the loosening valve on each shove in and out. His throat cables flexed as he tried to swallow what he could even though most of the lubricant just spilled out the sides of his jaw to continue messing up the berth.

Misfire felt almost drunk on pleasure as his valve was eaten out by Grimlock. The dinobot knew how to use that glossa of his and it just caused him to leak even more. The flexible broadness slid against many of his inner nodes, he could feel the charge ratcheting higher and higher. His legs shook from where they were spread wide, peds planted on the berth to keep his pelvic unit up even though he could probably let himself drop with Grimlock’s mouth around him.

Pulling his glossa out, Grimlock did a few hard passes over Misfire’s outer node as he felt the charge tingle against his mouth. The seeker’s hips were twitching sporadically now and with one last press against the node, shoved his glossa back in. Pushing his head closer with the shove, he felt something at the tip of his glossa and pressed against it.

A shriek that ended in static erupted from Misfire’s vocalizer as Grimlock finally found his ceiling node. The resulting pressure causing the built charge to finally erupt into an overload. Lubricant gushed from his valve, filling the dinobot’s mouth and Grimlock swallowed what made it far enough down to his intake before it could spill over the sides of his jaw.

Slowly dragging his glossa out, he carefully licked at the swollen mesh to help Misfire come down from the strong overload. Once the shaking started to subside, he pulled away and carefully lowered the seeker’s pelvic unit to the dirty berth. The seeker’s dim optics were trained on him as he lifted his helm.

Misfire lifted his shaking arms and made grabby hands at Grimlock, a smile tugging at his lips as his engine purred.

“Come here Grimmy. Frag me into this berth. Just like that, I love those teeth against my plating.”

Stalling for a few kliks as he processed Misfire’s slurred words, Grimlock’s tail swished behind him. Closing his teeth around one of the still shaking legs, he pulled Misfire down the berth so his pelvic unit hung off.

Well, if Misfire wanted him like this, Grimlock was going to give it to him.


	3. Day 2 - Voyeurism/Rimming [Prime Starscream/Megatron]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not really voyeurism I guess, but they are doing it in the throne room/whatever place others could walk in on them. Not very happy with the end but oh well. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Starscream’s engine rumbled in arousal as he laved his glossa against the pliable metal of Megatron’s aftport. Oral lubricant soaked the area and trailed down the warlord’s aft and mixing with the lubricant sliding from his valve as Starscream worked on getting the metal to cycle open so he could really go at the sensitive mesh inside. Swiping over Megatron’s port a few more times with hard presses against the metal, he pulled away before leaning his head down slightly further and dragging his glossa through the damp folds of the other mechs valve.

The sound of chains rattling as Megatron pulled his arms had a smile crossing Starscream’s faceplate as he continued to lick at the wet folds, dipping his glossa past the swollen lips to lick up more lubricant seeping from the valve entrance. Swiping over them one last time, even a flick at the pulsing node, Starscream moved back up to lick at the still damp aftport. Blowing an exvent on the wet metal, the seeker watched as it spiraled open slightly before spiraling closed.

Wings twitched as a ped brushed against the sensitive metal, Starscream was glad he had the foresight to tie the warlord’s peds up and back, along with chaining his arms to the floor and gagging that fanged mouth. Plus tying his Lord’s peds to the back of the throne left him bent practically in half, perfect for Starscream to settle himself kneeling on the armrests and able to reach his aft and valve.

Pressing his glossa against the aftport again, he kept pressing until he felt the metal spiral open again. And not wasting any time, shoved his glossa inside, brushing and rubbing it against the mesh inside. Megatron’s frame shook below him but Starscream paid his Lord little attention, even ignoring the noises that escaped the gag.

He rubbed against the stiff walls, aiming to loosen the mesh and turn it more pliable. As pliable as a valve, which was absolutely possible and Starscream aimed to show Megatron exactly that. After all, if he could manage to stick a false spike, or a real spike up his own aftport then so could Megatron.

Letting oral lubricant collect in his mouth, Starscream slid his glossa back in to use it to push the collected lubricant into Megatron’s aftport, rubbing the fluid against the slowly relaxing walls. Tightening his grip around Megatron’s hips, the seeker dragged his claws across the dark silver aft, leaving some lovely lines in the plating.

Megatron’s engine growled, Starscream’s rumbling in reply as he ground his leaking spike against the warlord’s abdomen, smearing transfluid on the dark plating. Dragging his claws one last time across Megatron’s aft, the seeker pulled his mouth away to appreciate the view of his Lord’s aftport.

“Now let’s see how well you take a spike, hmm?” Starscream purred, glancing back at Megatron. The warlord let out a loud growl past his gag and yanked on the chains holding him still.

All it did was make Starscream laugh.


	4. Day 3 - Tentacles/Distention [Prime Shockwave/Soundwave]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I am with Day 3 late, but I hope that 1k makes up for it.

The slither of cables tweaking the spines on this upper back was the first thing he felt before they slid over his shoulders to wrap around his window. A slim body pressed against his back, long arms coming around so spindly servos could wrap lightly around his wrist and rest on his canon. A burst of binary static sounded behind Shockwave as Soundwave pressed his helm against his back, lithe frame leaning slightly on the larger mech. Shockwave let him engine rumble while he finished up his project to an acceptable stopping place.

Almost thirty cycles passed before Shockwave deemed the project at an acceptable stage to pause it. While he cleaned up his workspace to ensure nothing would disturb or interfere with his current project, he released his field to brush against Soundwave’s. The smaller mech was still leaned against his back, his weight slowly increasing as he pressed closer and closer over the cycles. Once everything was cleared, he reached up and tugged at the cables still hanging loosely over his shoulders, at the tug the unwrapped from each other and slid back over. One reaching up to tweak a helmfin.

Soundwave pulled his arms back to his sides as he stepped away far enough for Shockwave to turn around. Once facing the smaller mech, Shockwave brought up his hand to wrap around Soundwave’s hip. A burst of charge shot through his systems as he looked down, still amazed at how slim his Conjunx was. His clawed servo tips almost touched on the other side of Soundwave’s small waist, the unprotected protoform emitting heat as systems ran hot.

Tightening his grip slightly, Shockwave pulled Soundwave against him, their armor making a barely audible clang as they connected. The scientist brought his helm down and pressed it against the communication officer's own visored helm in their version of a kiss. He rubbed his thumb against the glowing lines decorating Soundwave’s abdomen. Shockwave dragged his hand down, scraping his claw lightly over the thick armor as his thumb passed under the curved armor covering his hip, he wrapped his hand around the armor free thigh and lifted.

Soundwave’s leg swung up and wrapped around Shockwave’s hip as the larger mech used his cannon arm to help lift the smaller up high enough for his other leg to latch around his hip. Keeping his cannon under Soundwave’s aft, Shockwave walked them back until he had Soundwave pressed against a wall. Once he was sure Soundwave was supported against the wall, he dragged his cannon down the ungulated leg, activating it at low power so the charge licked at blue plating.

He kept the charge passing through as he maneuvered his cannon to push Soundwave’s leg from his hip, pushing the leg up and out to press closer. Charge zapped between them as he ground their panels together, feeling the heat emitting from Soundwave’s into his. His poor Conjunx, having to stand and wait with an overheated interface array. Static erupted across the silent mech’s visor as his panel snapped open, lubricant spilling out and coating Shockwave’s array as he ground against him again.

Letting his own panel slide away, Shockwave let out a deep groan as his spike pressurized, sliding right through the copious amounts of lubricant Soundwave was leaking. Lifting his arms from where they still hung at his sides, Soundwave threw them over Shockwave’s massive shoulders and dug his servos into seams for a tight grip. And just in time as Shockwave pulled his hips back and pressing the tapered tip of his spike against the lithe mech’s valve lips, pressed forward.

Once he felt the first set of calipers start rippling down, he slammed his hips forward, using his grip still on Soundwave’s hip to yank him down at the same time. A loud bleat of static erupted from the visor before it tapered off to a high pitched whine. The tank didn’t wait for him to adjust before starting a rough and fast pace, spike forcing calipers open on each thrust.

Shockwave moved his hand from Soundwave's hip to his waist, claws scraping against his armor as he used the new grip to pull Soundwave down harder. With his thumb now pressed on his Conjunx’s abdomen, he could feel as the protoform bulged out with each deep press of his spike. It was exhilarating in a way, to know and see the evidence of how much larger he was in comparison to his partner.

The ports on Soundwave’s chassis opened to allow his cables to slide out, the appendages sliding around Shockwave and gripping tightly. He ignored them easily, even as one dug its claws between his plating at the bottom of his neck. Shockwave barely noticed the light as electricity ran up the cable and shot it through his systems. Hips stuttered as the electric shock racked his charge higher until it lashed out.

Shockwave’s groan was matched with his roaring fans and engine as he pressed his hips tightly to Soundwave’s, transfluid spurting out of his spike to quickly fill up what little space there was left in Soundwave’s valve. It took a klik before Shockwave’s processor was running correctly again and to notice that there was no transfluid spilling out between their pressed together frames. He shifted his hips, ignoring the bleat of static and yank on his plating as he rubbed against oversensitive nodes.

Optic brightening at feeling a gel substance at the tip of his spike had Shockwave’s engine rumbling in a loud purr, realizing he had pierced right through the gel keeping Soundwave’s gestation chamber closed. It explained the lack of transfluid that would normally spill out during their couplings and Soundwave’s bulging middle.

The scientist pressed his thumb against the bulging protoform, eliciting a high pitched burst of static and another hard yank against his plating. Shockwave ignored Soundwave’s tugs and the follow up of him trying to kick at him, though the position he was held against the wall made such action difficult. He pressed his thumb against the bulge again, feeling his transfluid slosh around the tip of his spike still buried through the gel wall.

His optic gleamed, he had a new experiment to conduct. Just how much transfluid could he fill Soundwave’s chamber with and how much force would it take to push it out.


	5. Day 4 - Gags/Fisting [G1 Jazz/Wheeljack]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a new thing for this pairing and this is one of the ones I like. Hope you guys enjoy it too!

“That’s a good ‘Jackie. Doing so well my mech.” Jazz purred, visor light narrowed as he gazed up at Wheeljack. The inventor was quite a sight to behold; oral solvent trailed down his chin past the mesh gag tied around his helm, arms stacked and tied behind his back, legs spread and held open with ropes connecting to those wrapped around his arms. But what really revved Jazz’s engine was Wheeljack’s glazed over, bright with charge optics trained on him where he sat between the inventor’s spread thighs.

Jazz smiled at Wheeljack as he ran his servos lightly through the wet mess between his legs. A puddle of lubricant sat on the berth and more still seeped from Wheeljack’s wet valve, Jazz was careful with each stroke, he had already gotten the other mech to overload five times and knew he was sensitive at that point. But it also made the Lancia relaxed, exactly what Jazz wanted for the next thing they were about to do.

The Martini Porsche was determined to make this experience a good one, not only because there could be a repeat but because Wheeljack had seemed apprehensive even though he was the one to come to him with the idea. He blamed the twins and others for the fear that he was able to faintly feel in the other mechs field.

Jazz's engine started revving with an unhappy sound at the sudden thoughts of how disappointed he was, talking about such things that made his friend scared to ask for something. Jazz quickly cut his engine, switching it back on with a gentle purr as he forcibly dragged his mind away from issues that had no place in the scene.

There was always a chance of injury, the saboteur wouldn't be part of intelligence if he didn't do his research and there was no way he was going to embarrass Wheeljack by causing him an injury in such an area and face the wrath of Ratchet.

A muffled whine had Jazz lightly shushing Wheeljack, "Ya good my mech, ya beautiful like this. All tied up and open for me. Ya valve must be nice and loose after so many overloads, wanna try it now or want another one?" Even as Jazz spoke he kept his fingers rubbing over Wheeljack's valve lips and visor trained on him for any negative signs.

There were no negative signs, Wheeljack instead let out two quick revs of his engine. It was their agreed-upon symbol that meant green, a drawn-out rev meant yellow, and a loud sharp rev meant red.

With the go-ahead and the assurance in Wheeljack’s field, Jazz pressed his fingers between the mesh lips into the heated wetness inside. Two servos easily slid inside, a muffled groan leaving Wheeljack’s vocalizer as his hips twitched uselessly against his bonds. The saboteur purred as he scissored his servos, testing the give of the inner mesh, and once assured it was loose and relaxed enough easily slipped another in.

Jazz let the arousal in Wheeljack’s field roll over him, his own field blanketing the inventor with praise and safety. Their fields almost mixed but Jazz kept his separate to better keep a sense on Wheeljack without worry about which feeling came from who. He didn’t take his optics off as he twisted his servos, together and spread apart to keep the walls relaxed.

It didn’t take long before Jazz had four fingers stretching the still relaxed mesh. His smile had grown as he watched Wheeljack’s face, more oral solvent had spilled past the gag and was now staining his neck cables and covering part of his chassis.

“A’right ‘Jackie, one more servo and my hand will be in your valve. Ya ready for it?” He kept his voice low, but strong and clear enough to pull Wheeljack’s attention to him. Jazz kept his servos moving as he waited for unfocused and glazed optics to connect with his visor. A few kliks passed before Wheeljack was able to focus enough and rev his engine twice.

“There ya go my mech, such a good boy answering me.” The praise had Wheeljack shivering, valve clenching down on his servos before the mesh relaxed again. Jazz leaned down and placed a kiss on a white thigh, the metal hot against the soft metal of his lips. He carefully worked his thumb in once he deemed Wheeljack ready, he equally as carefully spread all five servos, listening to the strangled moans and gasps he was rewarded with.

The amount of lubricant had grown in the span of time it took Jazz to get all his servos in. His hand was coated, making it easier for him to slowly work the rest of his hand into the Lancia’s stretched out valve. The widest part of his hand popped in with a wet noise, servo tips bumping into Wheeljack’s ceiling node.

As soon as his servos made contact, the inventor’s frame stiffened, back arching as best as possible in his bonds. Jazz’s visor flashed as Wheeljack’s valve rippled and clenched tightly to his hand, lubricant flooding out at the sudden strong overload.

Jazz could only stare with awe as Wheeljack feel strutless, vents flared open to pump out hot air and fans running on high. “Primus ‘Jackie, you’re beautiful.” He couldn’t help but breathe, exventing heavily at the sight.

If there was one thing Jazz wouldn’t take for granted in the relationship with Wheeljack, it was his submission. The one thing the inventor felt comfortable giving up to _Jazz_ of all mechs. And he would be slagged to the pit if he did anything to pull that trust away.


	6. Day 5 - Bondage/Sixty-nine/Vibrator [IDW Ultra Magnus/Rodimus]

Rodimus hummed as he admired the sight Magnus made on the berth. The large mech was spread out, arms pulled up and wrists tied securely to the head of the berth, his legs were spread wide with that massive spike pressurized and twitching. The captain was not ashamed to say he might have been drooling at each twitch of that blue and white spike that sent dribbles of prefluid down the length to start pooling on his abdomen. He bit his lip as his optics moved down, the calipers of his valve cycling on nothing as he took in the large false spike Magnus picked for tonight's play date.

It was both of their favorite toy, something Brainstorm for some reason had created and gifted them, it was easily a few inches wider than Magnus’ own spike and slightly longer as well with a rounded head and wide base that flared to keep it from sinking too far (Ratchet still won’t stop scolding Rodimus about a single incident involving a toy and it getting stuck too far. Rodimus still hasn’t quite forgiven the medic on how he decided to go about removing it.). Honestly, Rodimus was just happy that Brainstorm didn’t decorate it too weird and only left it a light purple.

And then there was the best feature of it. The toy _ vibrated_. Rodimus absolutely _ loved _ that feature, especially with the remote it was linked to with multiple settings. (He might have shorted himself out one cycle and had to suffer from Ratchet’s sweet mercies because of it.) At the moment though it was seated inside Magnus’ valve, it was currently off, at least until they started playing their game some more.

Pressing his thighs together as lubricant seeped past his panel, Rodimus bit his lip before releasing a vent and striding over to the berth. Magnus watched with dimmed optics, glossa swiping along his lips and engine starting to rumble in a purr as the fiery bot climbed onto the berth.

The speedster let his engine rumble in reply as he leaned down and kissed Magnus, their glossas barley brushing before he pulled away, eliciting a whine from the larger mechs vocalizer. Rodimus licked his lips before leaning back down for a quick peck before pulling away and maneuvering over the larger mech, his aft swaying above Magnus’ face. Rodimus licked his lips as he was faced with the large spike. Starting at the base, Rodimus slid his glossa through the pool of transfluid before pressing his glossa close and dragging it up the length of Magnus’ spike to lap a few times at the dripping tip.

A startled gasp escaped as a broad glossa pressed and dragged against his panel, the tip digging into the seams to collect the lubricant leaking out. Rodimus wiggled his aft, letting his panel slide open to bare his wet valve and quickly pressurizing spike. The next drag of Magnus’ glossa brushed the underside of his spike and dragged over his valve, lighting up all the external sensors while also lapping up the lubricant spilling out.

He couldn’t help grinding his hips down, a loud moan ripping from his vocalizer as Magnus took that chance to fasten his mouth his valve, the tip of his glossa flicking over his external node. Rodimus panted at the pleasure before forcing himself to return to his bigger partners spike. Dragging his glossa from base to tip, he licked along the sides and dug the tip of his glossa into the slightly flared edges of the spike plating. His engine rumbled in a purr as the action caused Magnus’ hips to buck up.

Distracted as he was from getting his valve eaten out by the former Enforcer’s talented tongue and worshiping the leaking spike in front of him, it took a bit before Rodimus had the processor power to pull out the remote for the vibrator and flick it on straight to one of the medium settings. He gagged as Magnus’ hips surged up at the sudden vibration spilling charge all along his inner nodes.

Pulling off Magnus’ spike before he could be choked further, Rodimus licked his lips from the transfluid and oral lubricant covering them. The vibrations of Magnus’ moans against his valve had him shivering, plating rattling as overload breached close.

Best. Anniversary. Night. Ever.


	7. Day 6 - Blow Jobs/Suspension [G1 Starscream/Wheeljack]

Wheeljack wiggled in his bonds, grumbling as he tugged on his leg in an attempt to pull it out of the chains he somehow managed to tangle it in when he tried to use his leg as extra balance to pull at the chains. Instead, it just left him still hanging and with one leg tangled in the chains still wrapped around his arms. Squirming a bit longer to no success of freeing himself anytime soon, Wheeljack let himself go lax, helm flopping backward toward the floor now that his back was more parallel to the floor.

The position was fairly uncomfortable, with his helm hanging down and one leg still swaying free. At least he didn’t use both legs. He preferred being able to at least pull himself up a bit to keep the energon from rushing to his brain module too much.

Wheeljack hung like that for what felt like cycles before metal started to echo with the sound of a mech heading toward the room. His frame tensed each step closer. The inventor's optics flared brightly as the tricolored form of Starscream rounded the corner.

The look in those red optics caused a shiver to rattle his plating before he clamped his armor down.

The seeker strode in with sure steps, a smirk pulling at his lips and revealing a pointed canine. He stopped a few feet away, taking in the mess Wheeljack had gotten himself into. The Autobot squirmed and lifted his still free leg in an attempt at closing his legs when he noticed the seeker's gaze wander and stay on his panel for longer than he was comfortable with.

"Quite the sight and _prize_ you've given me, Wheeljack." Starscream drawled with his engine vibrating with a purr.

Wheeljack glared in response, kicking his leg out to try to land a hit on the annoying seeker. It failed and only caused the Decepticon SIC to laugh.

With his laughter dying down Starscream smirked, ignoring the glare he was receiving as he walked closer to trail his claws along Wheeljack's leg. He brushed against the seam connection at his hip before running back down to grab under his knee. And with one swift movement, had grabbed the still loose chain and yanked it down while he yanked the inventor's leg up and quickly wrapped the chain around the limb to suspend Wheeljack even more.

The Lancia let out a surprised burst of static at the sudden position he found himself in. He squirmed, trying to close his spread legs but the chain gave no give. Instead of trying to hold his helm up anymore, Wheeljack let himself drop back, optics flaring at realizing the new position had him more at an angle to the floor.

The tricolored seeker hummed as he walked around, dragging his claws across the white plating as he made his way to stand in front of where Wheeljack's head hung. The grounder squirmed in another attempt to loosen his bonds as his optics were greeted with the seeker's panel.

Starscream's smirk grew as he reached down and started to dig his claws around the edges of Wheeljack's mask, paying no heed to the shaking and yanking as the Autobot tried to pull away. A quiet snick echoed the same time the Autobot stilled. The seeker pulled the mask away to dangle it in front of Wheeljack's whitened eyes.

He ran his glossa along his fangs as he took in the multitude scars covering the grounder's lower face, even some of the softer metal of his lips were missing and showing his denta. Starscream found the scars made him a bit more attractive than normal.

Reaching down, the seeker gripped Wheeljack's earfins and let his panel slide away with a snick. He sighed in relief as his spike pressurized, right in the inventor's face. Transfluid already headed the tip and left a silvery smear across his faceplate. Earfins flashed a bright pink, Starscream watched in amusement as Wheeljack's face filled with color in embarrassment.

He pulled his hips back, taking enjoyment in the whine that started to leave the grounder's vocalizer, to press the tip of his spike against the other's lips. Earfins flashed through multiple colors as Starscream pressed forward, forcing Wheeljack's mouth open. He moaned as he slid his spike into the warmth of his captive's mouth, enjoying the sight as he watched throat tubing bulging he pressed deep, deep enough to go down the grounders intake.

Wheeljack struggled as he was forced to take the wide, heavy spike. Jaw stretching wide enough he thought he heard the connections to his jaw creak from the width of the spike being shoved into his mouth. His throat constricting in an attempt, that ultimately failed, to keep Starscream's spike out of his intake.

Another whine vibrated through his throat, the vibrations causing Starscream to buck his hips as they ran up his spike. Starscream let out a huff, tightening his grip on the grounders earfins as he pulled his hips back, sliding his spike slowly out of Wheeljack's intake to rest the tip inside the inventor's mouth.

The Decepticons engine rumbled in a purr as he took in the amount of oral lubricant coating his spike. He let Wheeljack exvent a few times, each puff against his spike causing it to twitch before he dug his claws in and slammed his hips forward. The resulting gag and intake tubing tightening against his spike was pure pleasure.

Starscream didn't wait any longer before he started up a fast and rough rhythm, ignoring each gag as he forced his spike down Wheeljack's intake. Removing one of his hands from the still flashing earfin, he wrapped it around Wheeljack's throat, feeling the tubing bulge out against his grip on each thrust.

Oral lubricant was spilling out of Wheeljack's mouth, covering Starscream's array and spilling down his face and the seeker's legs to drip to the floor. Wheeljack's vocalizer vibrated with unheard sounds which only sent vibrations through the spike wrecking his intake.

Wheeljack squirmed, trying to close his legs as he started to feel lubricant pool behind his panel. Starscream must have noticed because next he knew a hand was groping his panel, claws digging into the seams and finding the manual latch. His panel snapped aside, lubricant spilling down his aft and front from his position. Servos rubbed against the wet and swelling mesh before two of them suddenly thrust into his valve.

Wheeljack tried to scream at the sudden penetration, calipers cycling against the servos and more lubricant spilling out as the servos started thrusting. Even with his hand occupied, Starscream didn't stop his thrusting into Wheeljack's throat, he moaned loudly as the scream vibrated through Wheeljack's throat and right to his spike.

Starscream could feel how close overload was and not wanting to tip over the edge alone pressed his fingers as deep into Wheeljack's valve as he could, rubbing his thumb against the glowing green nub. The increased cycling of his calipers was enough to indicate how close the Autobot was to overloading himself.

Pulling his servos out till the tips rested inside, he quickly slammed them back in. The tips of his digits slamming right into the bots ceiling node. The Lancia's hips arched as he overloaded with a muffled cry. Starscream ripped his hand free, wrapping it around Wheeljack's throat with his other hand as he chased his own overload. Hips pressing as tight to the bots face as he could get as he shot transfluid down Wheeljack's intake.

Once his tank was empty, Starscream carefully pulled his spike out of Wheeljack's mouth with a pop. The bots mouth hung open, silvery transfluid and oral lubricant trailing down his face. His fins where a dim purple that occasionally flickered to magenta, even his optics were dim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had originally planned on adding more at the end but decided to just leave it there. So either assume this was dub-con or as I imagined, some aftercare happens after.


	8. Day 7 - Aphrodisiacs [IDW Perceptor/Brainstorm]

Brainstorm vented through his mouth, vents open to dispel the hot air collecting in his frame even with his fans running on high. Oral solvent smeared against his cheek and the table it was pressed against. Servos scratched at the flat surface with each powerful thrust that pushed his frame back and forth. The aerial former released a strangled groan as the grip on his waist tightened, yanking him backward with a loud clang. Brainstorm’s wings flicked back as the weight of Perceptor's frame pressed down on his back, pressing his chassis harder against the table.

Perceptor mouthed at Brainstorm’s neck cables, glossa sliding out to tongue between them. Sliding his glossa under one of the cables, Perceptor lightly gripped it between his denta before tugging at it. The moan he got in return caused a shiver to run up his backstrut. Perceptor continued to mouth at the cable trapped between his teeth as he thrust into Brainstorm’s dripping valve. He could feel the copious amount of lubricant the aerial was dripping sliding down both their legs with each harsh connection of their hips and thighs.

The microscope sped up his thrusts, feeling the stirrings of overload close. Removing one of his hands from the tight grip he had on Brainstorm’s hips, he slid it down the front of the fliers thigh, covering his hand in the lubricant covering the area, until he reached the apex of teal thighs and found the glowing yellow node by the pulsing against his servo tips. He continued sliding his hand down until two of his servos framed the pulsing bundle of sensitive mesh.

A high pitched whine spilled from Brainstorm’s vocalizer as his external node was rubbed with quick and rough motions, combined with Perceptor managing to hit his ceiling node or past it on each thrust had his frame stiffening as overload quickly consumed his frame. Lubricant gushed from his valve to splatter on the floor and their pelvic units, charge crackling visibly along the seams of their armor. Brainstorm’s vents hitched as Perceptor pressed close, the feeling of transfluid filling his valve causing him to let out a weak moan into the large puddle of oral solvent puddled by his mouth.

With his leg struts shaking, Brainstorm was glad to be laying across the table otherwise he would have collapsed by now. Primus, the flier didn’t realize how intense his lab partner could be during interfacing. If he was like this all the time, Brainstorm definitely was open for repeat performances.

The room echoed with their fans and engines running on high, Brainstorm could feel his frame pop from the heat as he finally started to cool down. His optics dimmed as he waited for Perceptor to get off him, only for his optics to flare brightly and frame to jolt as his node was rubbed. Brainstorm shifted his still shaking legs in an attempt to get Perceptor’s hand away from the sensitive area, but it only seemed to encourage him.

“Per-Perceptor, please. Too. Sensitive.” Brainstorm panted, vocalizer spitting static and hitching on his words as he tried to get his mouth to move. His nasal ridge twitched at the feeling of his oral lubricant smearing even more against his cheek, he could even feel it seeping into the gaps between his helmet and into the mesh cords that made up his cheeks.

The teal flier moaned as the sensitive mesh of his valve was dragged at as Perceptor pulled his hips back, ridged spiked dragging against all his oversensitive nodes. His hope that the microscope would pull out and get off him was dashed as he stopped with just the tip still inside before thrusting back in. Brainstorm shouted as his ceiling node was slammed into, optics rolling up from the fast and hard pace Perceptor immediately started.

Oh, Primus, he didn’t think that aphrodisiac Perceptor accidentally drank would cause this reaction. He didn’t know if he could last much longer if the red mech kept this up.

Already oversensitive, it didn’t take long before Brainstorm overloaded again. Perceptor following suite with a growl of his engine and denta biting into his shoulder. Another load of transfluid filled his valve, spilling past Perceptor’s spike to drip into the growing puddle of lubricant at their peds.

He didn’t get as long as a reprieve this time as Perceptor started up again only nanoklicks later, thankfully he removed his hand from his node, the bundle of mesh pulsing wildly almost to the point of pain with how oversensitive it felt, and placed it back on his waist. Being dragged into the harsh thrusts was only slightly better.

Brainstorm whimpered as Perceptor came again, his own frame too sensitive to have built enough charge to overload again himself. Brainstorm hoped that was it, he honestly didn't think he could take much more.

Sadly, his hopes were quickly dashed as Perceptor started thrusting again. Brainstorm could only let out a strangled, high pitched whimper.


	9. Day 8 - Oviposition/Creampie [BW Inferno/Waspinator]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't figure out how to make this work and no other ideas were coming to me so have this quickly done nongraphic smut. They cute though.

Wings rasping and fluttering quickly behind him, Waspinator’s engine rumbled happily as he rubbed his mandibles with Inferno’s, the antformers engine rumbling just as loud as they ‘kissed’. Inferno’s servos were around the waspformers thighs, helping to rock the smaller bug on his lap with each grind of the other’s hips.

Pulling his helm away, Waspinator buried his face in Inferno’s chestplate, laughter bubbling up as he tightened his legs around the bigger mech’s waist. He rubbed his face against the red plating and wiggled his hips as his hips were soon held still and their arrays were pressed close. He wiggled and managed to grind his hips one last time before claws scratched and gripped tighter, Inferno letting out a grunt.

Waspinator whined as he felt his valve stretch with each egg that passed through Inferno’s ovipositor. The gush of fluids that followed each dud had him trying to wiggle each time. Rumbling his engine, Inferno rubbed his helm against the green bots, his hips bucking at the extra stimulation.

The sat there for an undetermined amount of time, Waspinator slowly nodding off as he got used to the eggs sliding through and in. He mumbled and shifted to sitting up as the red bot started pulling his hips up and off. Sliding his legs from around Inferno’s waist, Waspinator pulled them close so he was crouching over Inferno’s lap as the mech’s ovipositor slid out. A rush of transfluid and lubricant sliding out following the removal.

Inferno watched as the fluid slid out and dripped to the ground before looking up at Waspinator, pulling the smaller bot down and rubbing their mouths together again with a loud vibrating purr.


	10. Day 9 - Pet Play [IDW Overlord/Rodimus]

Rodimus bit his lip as he tugged on the leash, listening to the loud rumble of the phase sixer’s engine. He gazed down at the muzzled and tied up Decepticon with half-lidded optics, his spark pulsing in terrified joy at having such a mech at his mercy. Bracing his free hand against Overlord’s abdominal plating, he lifted himself up off the much larger mech’s thighs, giving the red optics a glimpse of his valve.

Lubricant streaking both their thighs from where he sat and leaving their plating glistening from the light pink fluid. Wiggling forward, hip joints straining from the width of Overlord’s waist. The red and orange mech rolled his hips as he rubbed his valve along the massive spike below him, streaking the white and blue spike pink.

He sat down, grinding his hips back and forth along the length of Overlord’s spike. The phase sixer’s hips bucked, knocking Rodimus forward at the force. The red mech grunted, slapping his hand with the leash down on the bigger mech’s chest with a disgruntled noise.

“Ah ah ah, bad Overlord. Told you no moving.” He sat up, giving a tug of the leash and watching as Overlord’s optics darkened, mouth twisting to bare his denta as he forced himself still. Rodimus let out a hum as his engine rumbled pleasantly.

“Good boy.”

Rolling his hips back, Rodimus placed his hands flat on Overlord as he shifted back. Wiggling his hips before reaching down with a hand to grab the tip of the large spike and press it to his valve. With another roll, the tapered tip sunk in, a gasp leaving Rodimus’ mouth as he shifted back, even more, to impale himself further.

By the time Rodimus had sunk himself low enough where their arrays were pressed together and the entirety of Overlord’s spike was in his valve, both mechs were shaking. Rodimus panting and vents blowing out hot air at the fullness and stinging stretch. Overlord’s denta were clenched tight, frame shaking as he tried to keep himself still.

Trying to be the good boy the beautiful speedster wanted him to be.

Once he got his vents under control, Rodimus bit his lip again and shifted a few inches off the phase sixer’s spike before sinking slowly back down. Giving a tug of the leash again, he licked his lips.

“Be a good boy and don’t overload until I do.”

Overlord couldn’t stop the pained moan from passing his clenched denta as he pressed the back of his helm into the berth.

This mech was going to kill him. And what a pleasurable death it would be.


	11. Day 10 - Hatefucking [IDW Ratchet/Megatron]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Supposed to be hate fucking but more like Ratchet surprised Megatron with rough sex and he just went with it.

Megatron grunted as his face was pressed harder against the floor. A kick to his knees had him spreading them wider as Ratchet gripped tight to his upper arms, hips colliding and making sharp clanging sounds as the medic thrust into his valve. Oral lubricant smeared the floor and his face as the ex-Warlord panted against the medbay floor, his frame rocking with each powerful thrust from the smaller bot behind him.

Lubricant dripped to the floor between their legs, creating a slowly growing puddle as the aggressive and rough fragging from a normally sedate medic turned Megatron on. He honestly didn’t expect the small medic to be able to throw him over his shoulder and then hold him down as he was doing.

He would never live this down if certain bots learned this was a turn on.

Ratchet shifted behind him, raising to his peds to better ram into his valve. The motion caused Megatron to let out a stuttering moan as he continued to shake from the stimulation. The hard thrusts were  _ perfect _ , he didn’t care why Ratchet seemed so angry at him. Just as long as he kept it up Megatron would let him frag him senseless into the floor.

Another shift of Ratchet’s hips and Megatron actually let out a muffled yelp as the wide spike suddenly slammed into his ceiling node. His optics rolled up at the barrage of stimulation. It didn’t take much longer before it was too much and he overloaded, spike shooting transfluid on the floor and up his chassis while his valve rippled down and lubricant gushed past the still thrusting spike.

Megatron shook as Ratchet kept going, the stimulation almost becoming too much before the medic finally slammed into him one last time and ground his hips as he overloaded. A groan leaving Ratchet as his transfluid spurted and filled Megatron’s valve.

Ratchet dropped onto his back, causing Megatron to grunt as his arms were pressed on harder from the extra weight.

Frag, that was  _ good _ . He wondered if the medic would be up for another round. Or another session like that later.


	12. Day 11 - Mirror Sex [G1 Wheeljack/Hot Rod]

Hot Rod whined behind the gag, squirming as much as he could in Wheeljack’s lap as the inventor purred at him. Wheeljack kept his chin hooked over the smaller bots shoulder to keep him from hiding from the sight he was being forced to watch.

Said sight being Wheeljack’s spike sliding between the lips of his valve as his hips were rocked back and forth, lubricant covering the grey and white spike and causing the red and green biolights to shine even brighter through the pale pink fluid. His own yellow biolights were flashing with each rock, optics trained on the sight even as color flushed his cheeks.

The Lancia hummed as he lifted Hot Rod’s hips until the pierced tip of his spike was rubbing between the flushed mesh. The smaller bot’s hips jerked at the sensation, a strangled whine leaving his vocalizer as he tried to grind down.

“You’re really pretty you know that? Every bot has things they find attractive but I think your colors are quite nice to look at. Maybe see if the twins would be willing to give you a good time, hm?” Wheeljack hummed as he slowly brought Hot Rod’s hips down even as the bot whimpered.

His spike slid in easily, the view in the mirror causing his fans to spin faster as he watched his spike spread those plump valve lips wide and allowing him a glimpse of the pulsing biolights inside. Wheeljack rocked his hips as he continued to pull Hot Rod’s down until their hips were flush.

The flame-colored bots optics were wide and releasing charge with how white they were. But he never took his optics off the sight of their arrays.

Wheeljack rocked his hips with a huff, nuzzling his facemask against the side of Hot Rod’s face. His optics crinkled as he watched a string of oral lubricant slide down the corner of the smaller bots intake to slide down his chin.

“Pretty bot. See how much your valve is stretching around my spike? Just imagine how much fuller you’d feel with a bot with a bigger spike. Or even two spikes in your tight little valve.”

Hot Rod thrashed, fans blaring as charge rippled through his frame as overload overtook him.

Wheeljack laughed between his moaning as Hot Rod’s valve rippled tightly around his spike, lubricant gushing out from around at the force of his overload. Hot Rod’s frame dropped, his vents flared open as he tried to regulate his temperature. His helm lolled to the side, nuzzling against Wheeljack’s facemask.

The inventor hummed as he rocked his hips, getting a burst of startled static in reply.

“Not done with you yet~ I haven’t overloaded after all.”

Hot Rod whimpered.


	13. Day 12 - Biting [IDW Overlord/Fortress Maximus]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **NON-CON WARNING**. Though nothing sticky happens, the biting is very much "do not want" from Fort Max and Overlord is a dick.
> 
> This boy needs help. And lots and lots of therapy.
> 
> Or to just repeatedly punch Overlord in the face.

A snarl rumbled out of the prison warden’s vocalizer as he was pressed into the ground, the massive mech behind him letting out a chuckle as he ran his glossa along his helmfin. Fortress Maximus wiggled under the heavy weight of Overlord as the mech went nipping at his plating. He let out a shout as denta clamped onto his neck, digging deep enough in the cables he could feel energon running down the lines.

Overlord purred as he licked the energon up, wrapping his mouth around the cables and giving a sharp suck to drag more energon out of the punctured cables. He moaned at the taste of semi-processed energon, pulling away to continue nipping down the thick plating of his quarry. Nipping along the plating, Overlord occasionally licked at the stinging bites that left dents in their wake.

Fortress Maximus clawed at the ground as Overlord continued to hold him down, denta biting deeply into random parts of his plating to pour hot energon out from his lines. He writhed against the ground from the pain, trying to not focus on each bite that quickly went from nips to deep, plate ripping bites as the phase sixer continued his path down.

Trying not to focus too much on the pain, had Max jumping with a shout as denta clamped onto his hip, his leg kicking out at the fierce pain shooting through his sensor net. Overlord laughed as he shifted his grip, grabbing tightly to one of Max’s legs before flipping the large mech over onto his back.

With energon staining his denta and trailing down his chin, Overlord smiled down at the grimacing prison warden. Servos still having a tight grip on the dark mech's legs. Fort Max let out a grunt as the phase sixer dragged his legs up to throw over his massive shoulders, his optics flaring almost white at the position that had Overlord’s engine rumbling.

Servos clawed into the dirt as the Decepticon’s engine rumbled in a purr while nuzzling his face against the white thigh. Max screamed as Overlord bit deep into his thigh, his denta snapping shut to avoid giving the bastard any more satisfaction even as his frame arched and stiffened from the pain.

“F-fragger.”

Overlord hummed as he licked at his recent bite, “Well if you insist.” He dragged his glossa along the blue codpiece.

Fortress Maximus’ helm snapped up, optics flared so brightly they were white. He clenched his denta at the look on the Decepticon’s faceplate.

Primus kill him now.


	14. Day 13 - Dirty Talk [IDW Deadlock/Hot Rod]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dirty talk how do.

A canine poked out as Deadlock smirked at the tiny red and yellow bot below him, hips languidly rolling to slide his spike in and out of the tight, sopping valve. Each time he bottomed out he made sure to grind his hips, spike housing grinding against the swollen node pulsing brightly with growing charge. 

“Pretty bot, taking my spike so well. See how much your tiny valve is stretching to fit me?” Deadlock’s engine rumbled as he ran his claws down the yellow legs, glass swiping along his pointed denta as he kept his optics flickering between the sight of their arrays and how the minibot kept putting his hands over his face to hide his expression.

Hot Rod gasped and panted, his vents blowing hot air out as his charge spiraled higher and his internal body heat continued to rise from the slow fragging. His servos curled over his face as he tried to hide the flush he could feel on his cheeks from the smug Decepticon.

Dragging his claws through the lubricant streaking Hot Rod’s thighs, Deadlock let out a low laugh. “Don’t hide your face pretty thing. You should watch, see how wet you’re getting? Your lubricant is streaking your thighs pretty heavily. Bet there’s a puddle under your aft already.”

He dragged his hands up, one gripping tight to the small bots hip to keep the rocking motions up, the other sliding up rest on his lower abdominal plating. Claw flicking against the swollen node and getting a delicious buck of those lovely hips causing a groan to leave Deadlock’s throat.

The Decepticon pressed his thumb down, getting another buck of those hips. He could feel the charge growing higher and higher and couldn’t keep his grin from growing as he started to press and flick the swollen nub at his mercy.

“Such a tiny bot and yet your node is big and swollen from your arousal. Gonna come for me pretty thing?”

A high pitched whine and nod was his answer. Deadlock growled, hand moving to grip the other hip as he slammed his hips forward on the next thrust. Hot Rod yelped, a leg kicking out at the sudden burst of pleasure.

He bent over, pressing his grinted denta against Hot Rod’s cheek. He let out another growl, glossa flicking out.

“Come on Hot Rod, overload for me and let me feel that pretty valve of yours clamp down on my spike.”


	15. Day 14 - Fucking Machine/Praise Kink [IDW Seeker Trine/Rodimus]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much praise kink going on here but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Starscream’s engine purred as he watched the scene in front of him. Beside him, Skywarp’s plating vibrated with how intently he was watching the two bots giving them quite the show. He whipped a hand out, smacking a purple leg and making the other seeker inch away. At least he proceeded to try to keep his plating from rattling much more by clamping and opening the seams.

He couldn’t even deign to roll his optics, much more interested in watching Thundercracker and Rodimus. The little Prime was seated on Thundercracker’s sybian, hip joints most likely straining from the wide seat meant for bigger mechs than him. His orange thighs and the seat was covered in the pale pink of his lubricant, a puddle slowly growing on the floor after having gone through multiple attachments, each one bigger than the last.

The one Rodimus had vibrating in his valve now stretched him wide, the calipers most definitely straining at the size. Considering Skywarp wouldn’t even try taking it and Starscream himself had issues taking it still, but seeing Thundercracker take it was a delicious sight to behold.

Now Thundercracker was a beauty, kneeling behind Rodimus and keeping a hand pressed against the smaller bots abdomen, he was whispering something into his audials that they couldn’t catch but the moans and high pitched whines that pulled from his vocalizer were lovely none the less.

He caught his blue mates darkened optics, a quirk of a servo had him stepping forward with Skywarp quickly following behind. Thundercracker gazed up at them, a smirk on his handsome face as he pressed a kiss against Rodimus’ helm flares.

Starscream smirked, reaching out a servo to grip the little Prime’s oral lubricant covered chin between two servos to tilt his helm up, gazing into the unfocused optics.

“Pretty bot, taking that toy so well. You’re going to overload for us again, hmm?”

A whine left Rodimus’ vocalizer, glossa flicking out before just hanging out of his open mouth. Skywarp moved closer, running his servos along the edge of a spoiler half and getting a shaky moan in response and the yellow appendages wiggling.

“Doing so well for us. You managed to take one of the bigger false spikes you know? Not even Starscream can take it as you’ve managed to.” Thundercracker purred, pressing more kisses along the spikey helm flares.

A low growl echoed beside them, causing the other two seekers to glance over and bare their denta in a grin at the extremely darkened optics of their third.

Skywarp bent down to nuzzle Rodimus’ neck, opposite of Thundercracker, as he hissed out, “Bet you could take both Screamer and me now. You’d be so pretty and so good if you could. Why don’t we give it a try hmm?” The dark seeker nipped at bared neck cables, engine rumbling at the high whine he got.

Starscream let a growl of his own rumble from his vocalizer, “I think that’s an excellent idea. Let’s see how well you can do Rodimus.”


	16. Day 15 - Cuckolding/Food Play [BW Depth Charge + Rampage/Cheetor]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a pain in the ass to do so hope y'all like my new ships. Not much food play but whatever lol.

Cheetor arched his back with a groan, spreading his legs wider over the wide red thighs of the mech he sat on. Red claws scrapped at the paint on his thighs, rubbing in the juice of the fruit they had shared earlier. Mandibles nuzzled the back of his helm causing the feline to purr as he tried to rock his hips on the large spike in his valve. The grip on his thighs kept him from doing much, the larger mech rocking him at his own pace.

The hands shifted, gripping his thighs tighter before lifting and spreading them even wider, giving quite the view of his spread valve to the third mech sitting across from them. Depth Charge’s optics were darkened as he watched Rampage thrust into his partner, a hand wrapped around his own spike as he slowly stroked himself at the sight.

Biting his lip, Cheetor gazed at the large spike, wondering if it would fit in his valve as well. Or maybe he’ll be able to get it in his mouth while Rampage continued to frag him. He wiggled, getting a nip to the back of his neck in warning as the red mech picked up his pace and getting some lovely sounds out of the feline former.

Groaning, Depth Charge squeezed his spike and moved his hand faster as he saw the telltale signs of Cheetor getting closer and closer to overload. He glanced up at Rampage’s face, optics locking with the other mech as he bent down and opened his mandibles to clamp down on the back of Cheetor’s neck. A high noise leaving the cat as his frame shook from overload, lubricant seeping past and splattering out past the still thrusting spike.

Their optics were still locked as Rampage gave a last thrust and held Cheetor’s hips down, transfluid spilling past as he filled the smaller bot to the brim. Depth Charge clenched his denta as he moved his hand faster, overload soon hitting him as well. His transfluid shot out, making a mess on the floor as his fans ran high.

A whimper and wet noise had him looking up, catching sight of Cheetor’s mouth open and tongue lolling out. He looked down, groaning at the sight of his partner’s valve gaping and clenching on nothing.

That was surprisingly hot.


	17. Day 16 - Shibari [IDW Ratchet/Drift]

“Frag.”

Ratchet lifted his helm from where he had laid it back to look at Drift, watching his Conjunx tug on the rope he was using to tie him up with. At the moment, only half of his frame was wrapped in elaborate knots as Drift fumbled with the uncooperative rope. Ratchet shifted and tugged at his arms. He rolled his optics. The rope wasn’t even that tight to his plating, something Ratchet would have expected. But seeing as this was maybe the _ second _ time Drift had actually done this, Ratchet would let it slide.

Only a little.

Clenching his fists and tightening the pistons in his arms, Ratchet yanked his arms to the side. The sound of the rope ripping and the sudden movement had Drift jumping, his helm whipping up to stare open-mouthed at Ratchet. The medic smirked before lunging. Drift yelped as he was slammed into the berth and quickly flipped onto his front, Ratchet snatching the rope and quickly wrapping Drift’s arms in tight and elaborate knots.

“Ratchet?! Hey! What are you doing? Come _ oooon_, I was supposed to tie you up.” Drift wiggled, trying to pull his arms apart but realizing how stuck he was with them tied straight along his back.

Ratchet only hummed, pushing Drift’s legs so he was kneeling before using the rope as leverage to pull him up so his aft was sitting on his thighs. Ratchet crawled around, ignoring the strings of rope still clinging around his arms as he sat in front of Drift. He brushed a thumb along the pouting bottom lip.

“You _ were_, but you’re not doing a very good job and taking too long. Now it’s _ my _ turn to show you how to tie someone up.”

Drift grumbled and slumped forward. Ratchet ignored the pouting and grabbed another length of rope, and checking the length, made sure to throw the middle over Drift’s head and pull forward so it rested at the base of his neck before starting on the first knot.

With deft fingers, Ratchet soon had knots tied down Drift’s front. The medic glanced up and smirked at the flush covering his Conjunx’s faceplate, bottom lip bitten between a canine as his fans whirled audibly.

Grabbing the last length of rope, Ratchet was quick to wrap it around Drift’s thighs and, pushing the mech on his back, he did a few knots on his heated interface array. A knot pressed against his spike housing and another few framing his valve panel.

A stifled moan escaped Drift as the mech arched his back when Ratchet rubbed his digits along the edges of the rope.

“C-come _ on _ Ratchet! Don’t tease me anymore.”

Ratchet let out a low chuckle, “Open your panel, and try not to snap the rope.”


	18. Day 17 - Scars [BW Dinobot/Cheetor]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something not very smutty. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

“What are you doing cat?” Dinobot dimmed his optics online as he felt servos run over his chassis, tilting his helm down to gaze at Cheetor as the younger ran his digits under the feathers covering his altmodes organic features.

Cheetor just hummed as he continued rubbing his servo tips against some of the grooves hidden by the feathers. “You got a lot of scars hidden under your feathers.”

“Of course I do. I’m a warrior. Warriors have scars.” Dinobot rolled his optics, moving a hand to rest on Cheetor’s back and scratching his claws lightly over the faux fur covering the other Maximal.

“Yeah, but you got a  _ lot _ of scars.” The feline grumbled, his tail swishing behind him and becoming a tempting grab.

Dinobot just rumbled a growl, his other hand reaching out and snagging the tempting tail as his other scratched down the spotted back. Cheetor let out a moan as he arched his back, vocalizer letting out a squeak as the hand gripped his aft and pressed him down. Dinobot smirked as he ground their panels together, letting out a purr of his own as Cheetor buried his face into his neck.

“All of us have scars, even you feline. But enough talk of that, if you’re awake enough to ask me questions then you’re awake enough to frag.”

Cheetor yelped as Dinobot suddenly lurched forward and rolled them over, settling over Cheetor with a wicked grin. The younger Maximals optics were wide before they fell into a half-lidded state, a purr rumbling out of his vocalizer as he raised his hips to grind them against Dinobot’s and rubbed their nasal ridges together.

“If you think you can keep up with this speedy cat, go ahead.”

The raptor laughed at the taunt, diving down to devour the cat’s mouth.

Oh, he would show him who had the most stamina.


	19. Day 18 - Sthenolagnia/Blood [IDW Ratchet/Deadlock]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the first I had finished in October and I still like it. Of course, this dang thing ended up being 2.1k long. @.@

Ratchet dodged a tackle, frame hitting the ground hard as the dark-colored Decepticon went snarling past him. He heard the Decepticon crash to the ground as he rolled and quickly stood, optics narrowed as Deadlock pulled himself up as well. The medic was unimpressed by the dark grey Decepti-brat. Their weapons were strewn somewhere after the first tackle and scuffle they had which landed them now playing glitchmouse and robocat, a game Ratchet was quickly getting tired with. Especially with Deadlock, an extremely feared Decepticon, repeatedly trying to tackle him to the ground instead of making a physical fight worth it.

A swipe of claws had Ratchet dodging again, his lips pulled back to bare his denta in unison with Deadlock’s own bared denta, the canines in the brats mouth more visible bared. He was a fragging brat and Ratchet just about had it with him. Taking his optics off the brat for a few kliks to check the area, Ratchet let his snarl turn into a smirk and on the next lunge Ratchet ducked, grabbed Deadlock’s upper arm and used the momentum of his turn and his shoulder to toss Deadlock’s weight over his frame to slam into the ground.

The surprised noise and the red optics wide in shock sent a thrill through the medics back struts. It wasn't every encounter that somebody managed to get the drop on Deadlock. And Ratchet knew he even managed to knock him out for a few kliks, if not an entire cycle, if the gust of air that came expelling unconsciously from vents after he was knocked flat was any indication.

Taking the chance, Ratchet grabbed Deadlock by an arm and hefted the other bot up, slamming the still reeling frame against one of the many half crumbled walls that made up their battlefield. Deadlock grunted, arms swinging up to claw at the medics face but only ended up digging into broad shoulders with a sputter of static as Ratchet gripped dark thighs and hefted Deadlock up so his legs were splayed wide over red hips to fit the medics frame up against his.

Ratchet pressed his chassis against Deadlock's, watching intently as the surprise covering the dark faceplate soon shifted into a barred tooth snarl. It was only nanokliks after that Deadlock dug his claws into Ratchet's shoulders and clawed against the thick armor, bringing thin rivulets of energon bubbling to the surface to spill down, as he started trying to thrash. Ratchet's grip on his thighs and the force he was using to keep the Decepticon against the wall allowed minimal movement, sure didn't stop him from swinging his legs and doing his best to kick at Ratchet. The hits only made the occasional grunt escape as Ratchet shifted his grip on dark thighs, servos catching in seams before yanking up, metal crashing together as their pelvic armor slammed together due to the force the medic used to yank the slightly lighter frame.

The sound of a panel snapping back caused both to freeze, wide optics staring into each other before a smirk slowly graced Ratchet's face. He raised an optical ridge as Deadlock's dark face grew darker from the energon flooding his cheeks. The surprise drained from Deadlock's face to be replaced by narrowed optics and his lip twisting up to bare his denta again at the smug expression covering the Autobot's face.

"A little turned on,  _ Deadlock?"  _ Ratchet purred,  grinding his still closed panel against the Decepticon’s open array. He could feel the lubricant staining his armor as he pressed against the heated valve. He couldn’t help the huff of laughter that puffed out at Deadlock’s expression, the smugness on his own faceplate quickly fell away as clawed servos struck out and gripped his chevron tightly before yanking on it to bring his face closer to Deadlock’s.

“Why don’t you show me if you’re as good in the berth as you are on the battlefield, hmm?” Deadlock purred, optics half-lidded as he dragged his glossa along his lips with a grind of his hips. Ratchet’s optics flared as his head was yanked forward once more, lips crashing against his own and canines slicing into the thin derma. Their engines revved as their mouths fought for dominance, Ratchet easily winning as he stuck his glossa between those deadly teeth and mapped Deadlock’s mouth.

Fans roared as vents flared open in an attempt to cool the two overheating frames. Ratchet pulled away from devouring Deadlock’s mouth, a string of oral lubricant connecting their tongues before it broke. The Autobot medic couldn’t help the appreciative rumble of his engine as he took in the glazed look in the dangerous Decepticon’s optics.

Ratchet let his panel slide back, spike pressuring right against Deadlock's dripping valve. A strangled noise left the Decepticon at the sudden heated pressure sliding against his valve lips and pressing against his node. His leg kicked out, connecting with Ratchet’s aft and causing the medic to jerk forward, the movement pressing his spike even harder against Deadlock’s node and valve and gaining strangled noises from both of them. Ratchet let out a huff as he tightened his grip on Deadlock’s thighs, spreading them and lifting his aft higher.

Looking down, Ratchet watched the glowing yellow biolights on Deadlock’s valve lips flicker along with the red on his own spike. He continued to watch the lights flicker, the slightest bit of light bouncing off the dark valve and his white spike. The twitching of hips and the sudden stabbing pain in ten points along his shoulders caused him to jolt, the claws digging deeper into his shoulders. Ratchet could feel the energon bubble past the claws and slide down his armor. Looking up and away from the tantalizing sight, he glared at Deadlock, the Decepticon matching his glare with one of his own and bared denta clenched together.

“If you don’t frag me  _ right now _ I’m going to knock your processor out of alignment and find someone else to frag.” Deadlock snarled, curling his servos and dragging them down, causing more energon to flow down and stain Ratchet’s white armor. He wrapped his legs as best as he could around Ratchet with his thighs still spread wide and hiked up. Deadlock dragged his peds along the medic’s aft and lower back, a burst of smugness filling his field at the knowledge he was most likely leaving scuff marks if not paint transfers.

Ratchet snarled at the brat, tightening his grip even more to the point he could buckle the metal and pushing him higher against the wall to aim his spike at the still wet valve. With a smirk pulling at his lips, Ratchet yanked Deadlock down, their hips colliding with a loud clang and a shout that turned to static erupting from the Decepticon’s vocalizer. He ignored how the claws just dug more into his armor, optics trained on Deadlock’s face as his optics rolled back and mouth hung open, a string of oral lubricant sliding down the corner of his mouth.

Ratchet kept still, fans running high and vents flaring open to release the heated air in his chassis. His engine revved at the rippling and flexing of Deadlock’s calipers against his spike, he could feel the sparks of charge bouncing off the inner nodes to the ridges on his spike. He waited until Deadlock’s hazy optics focused back on him and his calipers weren’t squeezing his spike  with a death grip  before pulling out and thrusting back in. A low staticky moan spilled from Deadlock’s vocalizer while Ratchet grunted.

Pulling out, Ratchet could feel the flood of lubricant that quickly covered his pelvis. He started a slow and deep pace, enjoying the noises he was dragging from Deadlock. Slanting his mouth over Deadlock’s parted lips, he pulled the Decepticon into a kiss, ignoring the sting and taste of energon as his lip was cut again by the Decepticon’s canines. A shift of the angle had Deadlock pulling away from the kiss, his helm smacking into the crumbling wall with a shout.

Ratchet’s engine revved in satisfaction as he took in Deadlock’s expression. His optics were glazed and bright with charge, mouth hanging open with oral solvent spilling from the corner of his mouth and trailing down his chin. A bit of energon stained the Decepticon’s canines and smeared along his lips from the cuts on Ratchet’s lips.

The noises that continued to spill from those lips just continued to rev the medic up. Ratchet picked up his pace, making sure to hit Deadlock’s ceiling node on each thrust. Vents flared open and spilled hot air between their frames as their temperatures continued to rise. Ratchet panted through his mouth to help himself cool down, each exhale fogging up dark metal his helm was by.

Ratchet’s optics trailed down the blissed out expression still on Deadlock’s face to his neck cables, some of them expanding and contracting noticeably as energon pumped through them. Licking his lips, he prodded at the cuts he could feel before latching onto one of the thicker neck cables. Mouthing at the thick line he could feel as it pulsed with energon flow, Ratchet continued to mouth at the cable as he lifted the other bots legs slightly higher and spread them wider, the thud as knees connected with the building stopping him from forcing them any wider.

A groan spilled from Ratchet’s vocalizer as he felt Deadlock’s vibrate with the strangled whimper as the position allowed Ratchet to get slightly deeper. He bit down on the cable between his teeth, optics flaring bright at the sudden buck of hips and scream that turned to static. Ratchet could feel the flood of lubricant pushing past his spike and staining his pelvic armor to trail down his legs as Deadlock overloaded.

Ratchet pulled away from the cable he was lightly biting onto grint his denta, holding still as Deadlock’s calipers squeezed and rippled along his spike, sending charge all along the length. He held back, not wanting to overload just yet. He was positive he could get at least one more overload out of Deadlock, especially if it meant he could continue looking at that fragged out expression still covering his face. Once the calipers relaxed, Ratchet pulled out halfway before sliding back in, starting a slow pace again.

It didn’t take long before Ratchet had started a fast and hard pace again, the sound of armor clanging together and the wet noises from the copious amount of lubricant, and fans running on high filling the air once again. Deadlock’s optics had yet to fade from the overcharged brightness, more oral solvent had spilled from his gaping mouth to stain his chin and even dripped onto his chassis to trail down.

He easily ignored the new spill of energon down his arms as Deadlock’s claws scrabbled against his plating, tearing new scratches into the thick armor. He leaned forward to mouth at nip at the pulsing cables again, feeling Deadlock’s valve clench each time he nipped at the thicker cables. It didn’t take much longer before Ratchet was on the edge of overloading, the spikes of charge bouncing from Deadlock’s clenching valve to his spike indicated Deadlock was just as close.

Ratchet felt metal give as he tightened his grip on dark thighs as he latched his teeth onto multiple cables, glossa running between the large and smaller cables he gripped onto. Pressing his chassis against Deadlock’s, Ratchet pressed close. His thrusts becoming short and hard as he bit into the cables held captive in his mouth. The scream Deadlock let loose that time was loud and high-pitched, vocalizer erupting into static again before completely cutting off.

Even more lubricant spilled from the clenching valve as Ratchet gave a few more thrusts before pressing his spike deep as overload took him as well. Transfluid spilling into the tight valve before spilling out. Ratchet huffed as he pulled away from Deadlock’s neck, licking the stray drops of energon on a few of the cables he bit a little too hard on.

Leaning back, Ratchet loosened his grip on Deadlock’s thighs but kept a grip to keep from dropping the Decepticon. It was then that the medic noticed the claws weren’t digging into his armor anymore and his arms hung limply beside him. Ratchet’s helm snapped up to look at Deadlock’s face, red optics were extremely dim, fans having slowed down considerably.

Ratchet huffed a laugh, a smile quirking his lips as he shook his helm. Wouldn’t it figure that he somehow managed to knock a Decepticon out by pure interfacing. This was definitely not something he was telling anyone.


	20. Day 19 - Double Penetration [IDW/Prime Skywarp/Starscream/Thundercracker]

Starscream grunted as he was slammed into by a blue blur, the two jets tumbling and spinning before slamming into the ground and skidding along. The smaller jet hissed and lashed out with his claws, digging lines into the blue plating of his larger trinemate. Thundercracker snarled right back as he pressed his leader into the ground, letting his engine turn over and rumble in a purr at the yelp and moan he got as he ground their modesty panels together.

Thundercracker ignored the still roaring turbines above them as he shifted and grabbed Starscream’s lower legs, hefting them up and bending them to open him up. He received another hiss as he rose up on his knees and shifted forward to rest his panel on Starscream’s. He shifted his grip to the smaller seeker’s peds and pressed down, getting another grunt and groan in response.

Snapping his panel open, Thundercracker let out a louder than needed moan as he pressed his now bare valve against Starscream’s still closed panel. His trine leader tried to buck his hips into the heat but the position left him no leverage. The blue seeker smirked down at the scowling visage of his mate, quirking an optic ridge until he heard Starscream’s panel snap open.

He bent down and pressed his mouth against his mate’s, dragging the slighter seeker into a messy make-out session as he shifted and lowered himself onto the long spike. They both moaned, Starscream pulling out of the kiss and knocking his helm against the ground as he arched his back. Thundercracker’s leg struts shook as he tried to keep his full weight off the smaller.

A sudden slam between his wings had Thundercracker knocking forward, letting out a surprised burst of static as he was shoved down. Starscream let out a strangled growl as he lashed out again, missing the purple and black menace who just laughed behind them.

Turning his helm to snarl over his pauldron at Skywarp, Thundercracker let his engine rumble in warning but all he got was another chuckle as the larger of the three draped himself over Thundercracker’s back. A bit of shifting of their hips and Thundercracker jolted, his vocalizer popping as Skywarp started pushing his spike into his valve while he still sat on Starscream’s.

Starscream was letting out a ton of tiny high pitched noises as his claws dug into the blue seeker’s arms, oral lubricant starting to trail down the side of his mouth at the added pressure against his spike.

Thundercracker was no better as his hips were held still to allow Skywarp to continue sliding in, claws digging into his hips as his own claws scratched at Starscream’s peds from his grip still on them.

The two were shaking, mouths hanging open once Skywarp’s hips pressed tightly against Thundercracker’s aft, grinding a bit just to get the two to moan at the additional pressure. Skywarp let out a breathy laugh, wings fluttering as he held still to let the other two to adjust before pulling back and thrusting back in.

Primus this was the best way to spend their excessive charge.


	21. Day 20 - Masturbation [G1 Ironhide/Wheeljack]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ship this. A lot. And wish there was more.

Wheeljack wiggled on the berth, optics flickering toward the towering red mech standing at the end. He bit his lip behind his blast mask as he slowly ran his hand down his chassis and to his thigh, his servos twitched nervously where they rested on his plating. He glanced back up at Ironhide, shivering at the heated look the older mech was giving him. Wheeljack could feel his plating heating even more as he dragged his other hand up his leg to brush servos against his heated codpiece.

Letting his optics power off, Wheeljack spread his legs, planting his peds flat to keep them open to allow Ironhide a better view. He framed his panel between thumbs and forefingers, slowly running hands up along the heated metal before reversing it. The inventor repeated the process a few times before one last downstroke had his panel snapping open, spike damp with housing lubricant pressuring and valve spilling lubricant onto the berth.

A groan, the first noise Wheeljack had made since starting, finally left his vocalizer as he ran servos lightly over his valve lips, the mesh burning and plump from his arousal. Brushing a few servos through his heated lips to spread the bright pink lubricant around and into the mesh of his valve lips. Wheeljack’s hips twitched as he ran two servos around his node, the bundle of sensitive mesh pulsing at the possible touch.

Ignoring his node for the time being Wheeljack drew circles around it before sliding his servos back down to dig between his lips, collecting more lubricant to spread around. He was sure he had covered the area in his lubricant by the time he finally dipped his fingers deeper, the tips finally breaching his valve. The Lancia panted as he dug his servos deeper, burying them to the last joint. Spreading the digits, Wheeljack knew his valve was on full display as he stretched himself out, he could feel lubricant bubble out and pool into his palm before spilling down into the growing puddle beneath his aft.

Wheeljack finally dragged his other hand up, circling around his spike housing before running two digits up the length. Coming to tapered head, he ran his thumb against the barbell and through the transfluid beading out from around and under the piercing. Wheeljack hissed as he teased the ball with his thumb and felt more transfluid bead out and slide down his spike. All the while he continued to thrust and spread his servos in his valve.

The double stimulation had his hips making light thrusting motions, the movement slightly difficult due to how wide he had his legs spread. Especially while trying to keep his balance from falling backward.

Vocalizer spitting static on the next moan, Wheeljack bypassed teasing himself any further by wrapping his hand around his spike and pumping with a tight grip. He moved his servos faster, three digits now buried in the warm and wet folds. It took him rubbing his lubricant soaked palm against his node for overload to rush through his frame, sparks lighting along the edges of his plating as lubricant gushed from his valve and transfluid shot from his spike.

Wheeljack onlined his optics to find himself staring at the ceiling before a grey faceplate appeared in his view. Ironhide's optics were darkened to almost a violet as his engine rumbled dangerously. The inventor let out an embarrassing squeak as his legs were grabbed and Ironhide proceeded to bend him practically in half.

His frame shook as he stared up at Ironhide with wide optics, a whimper escaping his vocalizer as a heavy and hot weight came to rest against his valve lips. Wheeljack stared as the older mech leaned down, lips brushing against his audio sensor before huskily whispering something that caused a violent shudder that was strong enough to rattle his plating.

"What a lovely show. But I think it's mah turn."


	22. Day 21 - Size Difference [IDW Cyclonus/Tailgate]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Top Tailgate is nice.

Tailgate’s hands shook as he dragged them up Cyclonus’ thighs, thumbs barely brushing across the cables at the junction of hip and thigh. He kept his hands dragging lightly up and down, visor light flickering as he glanced up at his conjunx’s face to his open modesty panel. His spike housing was closed, as this wasn’t about using it, but his valve panel was open. Pink lubricant seeping onto the berth to make a small puddle beneath the bigger mech’s aft.

“You sure this is okay?” Tailgate moved his hands up again, moving one further and brushing his thumb against the edge of one damp mesh lip and smearing lubricant on his finger.

Cyclonus rolled his hips toward the blue and white minibot, “Yes Tailgate, you’re doing good right now.”

The minibot’s plating ruffled at the husky praise. Taking a deep invent, he pressed his thumb more firmly against the wet mesh and rubbed. A low moan rumbling out of Cyclonus’ chassis at the stimulation.

Tailgate removed his hand after swiping the entire length over Cyclonus’ valve, coating his palm and fingers in the lubricant before reaching down stroking his spike. Placing his hand back on the purple mech’s thigh, he shifted forward and pressed against the valve mesh.

Cyclonus’ hand rested on Tailgate’s helm, claws scratching lightly and rubbing against his helm with a light nudge. Tailgate glanced up, a flush coming to his faceplates as he shifted forward even move and slid his spike in.

His hips jutted forward as they both moaned. Tailgate falling forward and wrapping his arms as far as he could around Cyclonus’ waist as the feeling of the jet’s calipers rippled along his spike.

Tailgate rubbed his face into Cyclonus’ abdomen, fans whirring on high as his bigger conjunx continued to rub the top of his helm.


	23. Day 22 - Telepathy/Crying [G1 Cassettes/Soundwave]

Soundwave’s vocalizer spit static as he arched his back, hands gripping tight to the bar over his head. Beside his helm, Laserbeak and Buzzsaw cooed, their interfacing cables hooked up and dangling from inside his dock. The two bird cassettes rubbed their beaks along his unmasked face, smearing the coolant leaking from his optics as he arched again with a warbling cry.

His legs jerked, hips bucking but was held still by Rumble and Frenzy. The two cassetticons had a tight grip on his legs, holding them bent and open as they dug their digits between his seams and tweaked the cables they could reach. His frame shook as claws scraped along his lower sides, the low rumble and growl of Ravage’s vocalizer and engine a soft vibration against his abdominal plating as the feline cassette thrust into his valve.

Ravage’s broad glossa swiped along his plating, brushing the bottom of his dock and causing a low cry to echo out of his mouth. Rumble and Frenzy were mumbling something against his plating as they pressed open mouth kisses against his shaking legs. He couldn’t understand what they were saying with the noises he was making and the cooing of his smaller cassettes echoing in his audials as they sent a current of charge through his lines in a continuous loop.

He wanted to reach down, to touch Ravage and encourage the feline to go faster, go harder. He wanted to wrap his hands around the twin’s spikes and help them reach overlord. He wanted _ so much _ but he was a good carrier, he was going to listen to them and let them do what they wanted and planned for him.

Another warbling cry left his intake as Ravage finally sped up, grinding their arrays together on each thrust in and even activating the spike flares on his spike to add more stimulation to his valve. More coolant spilled from his bleached optics as the bar in his hands bent from how tightly he was gripping it.

So close, he was so close. But they weren’t there yet, he couldn’t come without them finding their release first. Those thoughts were quickly rebuffed by the five of them combined, Buzzsaw giving a sharp nip to his helm in reprimed at the thought. All Soundwave could do was hold on as the avians sent higher spikes of charge through the cables.

He was on the cusp of overload, frame shaking violently from the stimulation his cassettes were plying him with when a burst of thoughts and feelings hit him.

The echo of _ wantlove_**_ours_ ** echoing through their bond and minds was what finally undid him.


	24. Day 23 - Collaring/Threesome [G1 Ironhide/Ratchet/Wheeljack]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let them fuck.

Fans whirred loudly in the room, high whines and low groans echoing as Ratchet tugged on the chains attached to the wide collars decorating Ironhide’s and Wheeljack’s necks. Ironhide writhed beneath both their weight as Ratchet pressed Wheeljack’s chassis against Ironhide’s, thrusting languidly into the smaller mech’s clenching valve.

Ratchet groaned as he ground his hips, letting out a strangled chuckle at the distressed noise from Ironhide, knowing that Wheeljack’s lubricant was dripping onto his straining spike. He bent over Wheeljack’s back, pressing his chassis between the twitching faux wings and running his glossa along the thick leather that made up the inventor’s collar.

He wasn’t able to do the same with Ironhide’s, instead, he moved his hand down, the chains clinging together, to rub along the leather and tug on the D hook to get the red mech to arch his back. Ironhide let out a growl at the same time his engine rumbled dangerously. But he knew the game and wasn’t going to disobey the orders Ratchet had given him earlier.

After all, if he was good and let Ratchet have his fill of Wheeljack, Ironhide would be able to have fun with both of them afterward.

And Ratchet did enjoy getting that spike in his valve as he was pushed into Wheeljack.


	25. Day 24 - Begging/Anal [Prime Predaking/Starscream]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meh, not much begging but whatever.

Starscream bit his lip as he rubbed his servos through the lubricant beading from his valve, spreading the pink fluid on his lips as his other hand worked lower. Those digits were grinding into his aftport, spreading a copious amount of synthetic lubricant inside. His optics flickered to the large mech staring at him, engines loud and strong fans running full power as those yellow optics stayed trained on his lower half.

Circling his node a few times, Starscream removed his hand from playing with his valve and placed it behind himself so he could tilt his hips up and give Predaking a better view of him stretching his aftport. The dragon growled, his hips twitching and causing that massive tapered spike to bob in the air.

The seeker couldn’t help the whine of his engines at the dripping spike, his valve calipers rippling at the sight and aftport clenching on his digits. With a moan, he pulled his servos out, holding them up and spreading them to show Predaking the artificial lubricant stinking to his claws.

“Star-Starscream.” Predaking licked his lips, optics darkening at the sight as he practically whined and tried to lean forward from his bound position.

Starscream just tutted as he reached over and grabbed one of his false spikes, quickly coating it thoroughly in the artificial fluid before pressing it against his port and slowly rolling his hips as he pressed it in.

The whine Predaking let out had Starscream releasing his lip and grinning at the bigger bot as he pressed the large false spike into the base.


	26. Day 25 - Monsterfucking/Shower Sex [BW Megatron/Inferno]

Megatron let out a pleased sigh as he sunk into the heated solvent filling his tub, considering their ship had landed on a volcano his tub was still normally cool but today, oh yessss, today he let the solvent heat up and what a relief it was. Flaring open his vents the Trex formers engine rumbled in a purr as the heated solvent entered and washed the soothing heat over his wires and cables, the heat was enough to unkink many bunched and kinked cables hidden deep within his frame. Flaring his vents again Megatron couldn't help the moan that slipped between his lips, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth, he bit and worried at the soft mesh as he brought his hand up to slowly rub at his chassis.

The slow strokes moved down, blunt fingers digging into seams and plucking what wires he could reach as he continued to slide his hand down, down into the solvent to press two fingers against his heated panel. The heat emitting from it was much warmer than the solvent and Megatron could almost _ see _ the steam that would be emitted from the heated metal. Megatron circled his fingers against his spike housing a few times before moving down and pressing against the middle of his valve cover. The water rippled as his hips jerked at the pressure, he could feel lubricant flooding his valve and if it wasn't for the solvent would most likely be trailing down his thighs.

Megatron cupped his panel and ground down, pressing his fingers firmly against his valve panel. His hips continued to grind against his hand as he checked his fuel levels, not wanting to be low before he continued with his private time. The groan the beastformer let out next was one of annoyance at seeing his fuel levels were only at 45% and that just wouldn't do. Drumming the fingers of his unoccupied hand against his cheek, Megatron thought, he didn't bring any fuel with him so he would have to get one of those imbeciles to bring him some. Primus forbid he let any of them see him when he's about to pleasure himself.

A smirk pulled at his lips as a thought struck him, oh yessss that would do, a loyal soldier and one that actually found him attractive. With that idea in mind, Megatron opened his commlink, "Oh Inferno, do your queen a favor and bring him some fuel. And be quick about it or you won't get a, shall we say, _ special _ reward."

Turning off his comm to the quick affirmation and sputtering of the ant, Megatron relaxed back into his tub with a content rumble. He rubbed lightly at his array for a few moments before reluctantly pulling away from the scorching metal, as entertaining as it would be to be enjoying himself when Inferno came in, he had another plan. One which involved the loyal ant helping to clean his beast mode.

Which unfortunately meant he had to stop pleasuring himself and clean himself now.

Megatron had just finished scrubbing the dirt and grime from the last seam when a knock and an echo of “I have arrived with the fuel you had requested my Queen!”. The pedsteps echoed as Inferno came further into his hab, and Megatron waited until the antformer was in sight before slowly standing from the tub, making sure to show off his wet frame as solvent slid down his armor. The sudden sputtering had a smile pulling at his lips as Megatron turned and walked toward Inferno.

He dragged his servos down Inferno's arm, rubbing against red plating before plucking one of the cubes from the ant's servos. Biting a hole into the cube, Megatron downed it, ignoring the drops he could feel sliding down his chin and throat. A silent purr rumbled in his chest at the hitch of fans and the expression on Inferno's face was a delight to take in, especially as he didn't move when Megatron grabbed the second cube and downed it as well. Tossing the cubes to the side to be dealt with later, Megatron turned and headed back toward his tub. The sound of metal sliding and cogs turning as he swiftly transformed into beast mode.

Megatron easily stepped back into the warm solvent, crouching down so his tail and head laid on opposite sides of the rim. He stared at the dumbstruck ant, a huff blowing steam from his nostrils and rolling his optics.

"Well, Inferno? Come tend to your queen, this form is difficult to clean without help." His engine rumbled in a purr at the stutter he received before Inferno scurried over, stalling a few kliks before entering the tub. Megatron thought it would take another look before he was touched but Inferno went straight to scratching and running solvent against the back of his neck.

Sinking further with a relieved sigh, the Trexformerlet the ant do his job. And Primus was he good, and very attentive to getting all the crevices in the seams of the faux leathery skin that made up his altmode. It felt as if only cycles had passed before Inferno finished with scrubbing almost every inch of his frame, the ant now working on his tail.

Unfortunately, Megatron noticed the cleaning had left him a little revved up. He could feel the lubricant budding at this forms valve entrance. It felt vaguely uncomfortable considering there was no panel to cover the area. Huffing, Megatron shifted his peds and realized that Inferno hadn't once moved his hands under his tail. Well, that was about to change.

The ant revved him up with his attentive cleaning, he can take care of the problem.

He waited until Inferno did another pass up his tail and was rubbing at his hindquarters before shifting his peds and swinging his tail over his back to show off his dripping valve. If Megatron was able to smirk he would have at the strangled sputter that echoed behind him.

“You’ve given your queen an issue, yessss. Why don’t you take care of it, ant?” Turning his head so he could watch, Megatron kept an optic on Inferno, taking in the others darkened faceplate as he cautiously ran his servos around his valve. Letting out a huff through his nostrils, Megatron pushed back into the touch in an attempt to intice Inferno to do more.

What he didn’t expect was for Inferno to suddenly press his face into his valve and run his teeth along the thin lips before a thick tongue buried itself between the folds of his valve lips. Megatron would deny the noise that left his vocalizer at the sudden feeling. He could feel as Inferno pulled his valve open to get deeper in, lubricant no doubt starting to cover the ants face.

By the time Inferno pulled away from devouring Megatron’s valve, the Trexformer was a panting mess, drool sliding down his maw as his frame quivered. A high moan left his vocalizer when the antformer pulled away, denying him an overload that had been building. A press down against his hind-end had him crouching further down into the solvent.

He didn’t hear the sound of a panel sliding open underneath the solvent, but he did feel the pressure of a spike pressing against his valve and sliding inside. Megatron moaned as he attempted to shift his weight again only to be stopped by the grips on his hips keeping him in place. Huffing as Inferno’s hips finally pressed against his, Megatron panted as his valve clenched on the ants' spike, feeling the ridges along the length as his calipers cycled down.

Inferno stayed still for only a few kliks before pulling out and sliding back in. Megatron could hear the other beastformer panting at the slow pace which he was very much not wanting, so with a quick push back he let his tail fall over one of Inferno’s shoulders. The action was the perfect incentive to get the ant to actually _ move _ and Primus did the mech move.

Releasing his hips, Inferno wrapped his arms around Megatron’s tail and pulling out, thrust back in hard, solvent rippling at the movement. He didn’t let up the power behind his thrusts, not with Megatron’s voice deepened and ordering him to keep the pace.

Megatron himself was moaning at each thrust, lubricant spilling out around the ridged spike to mix with the solvent on each thrust. His calipers kept cycling down, grasping uselessly on each deep penetration. More oral lubricant pooled out of his maw, soaking his bottom jaw and sliding to puddle on the floor beside his tub as Inferno managed to hit all his nodes just right.

A shift of his hips being raised and Inferno bending to thrust up had Megatron yelping as his ceiling node was slammed into and more sensor nodes were stimulated at the shit of position. It didn't take much longer before Megatron was shaking with the approach of overload.

He could feel as Inferno's hips stuttered with his own approach to overload, a few more stuttering but powerful thrusts had Megatron releasing a roar as he overloaded. Inferno moaning as he pressed his hips tight to Megatron's and released a flood of transfluid into his valve, causing a smaller overload to wrack Megatron's frame as the fluid stimulated over sensitive nodes.

Both rested there, fans running on high and filling the air as they worked on cooling down. Megatron was the first to recover, he lifted a ped and pushed back against Inferno, valve clenching down as the ant’s spike slid out. Standing up, he transformed back into bot mode while turning around. He couldn’t help but smirk at the expression on Inferno’s faceplate.

Licking his lips, Megatron pressed himself against Inferno, causing the ant to release a sound similar to a squeak. How _ cute_. He brought their faces together, optics half-lidded as he purred, “I do hope that’s not all you have in you ant, your queen still requires some relief.”

Megatron couldn’t even be offended when he was tackled and slammed into the other side, a laugh leaving his vocalizer before it was cut off with a moan.

Oh yessss, calling Inferno in was a wonderful decision.


	27. Day 26 - Breath Play/Orgasm Denial [Prime Megatron/Optimus]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Megatron, you FAIL.

Optimus grunted as he thrust into Megatron’s clenching valve. The warlord gasping through his intake as his hands tightened around thick neck cables. Claws scratched at his aft, forcing his thrusts harder. Optimus shifted forward, nudging his knees to push the silver mech’s legs up and over his waist and he tried to pick up the pace. The rhythmic clenching of Megatron’s valve had Optimus slamming in and holding still, losing his grip around the larger mech’s neck.

Claws scratched his aft, Megatron growling and glaring with optics bright with charge as he tried to get Optimus moving. The Prime just smirked behind his battlemask as he lent down and ground his hips in small circles.

“No overloading until I do.”

Megatron’s vocalizer spit static, his engines whining as he arched his neck and pressed into the servos still wrapped around his cables. Optimus just exvented and started thrusting again, servos slowly tightening. One of Megatron’s hands left his aft to scratch up his back and dig marks under his shoulder armor.

The Prime let his engine roar as he pounded into the gasping warlord. A loud burst of static, the warm feeling of transfluid hitting his abdomen, and the rabid clenching of Megatron’s valve was his warning that the silver mech overloaded.

Optimus pushed his spike in as deep as he could and stayed still, the clenching still not enough to get him to overload himself.

When Megatron’s unfocused optics started to focus on him, Optimus removed his hands and grabbed under Megatron’s thighs to push them up and bend the larger mech in half to lean down at face level.

“You didn’t listen, overloading before me. Guess you have to be punished now.”


	28. Day 27 - Sex Pollen/Xenophilia [BW Tarantulas/Cheetor]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does it count for xenophilia if they already aliens?

Cheetor fisted a hand in front of his face with a whine, rubbing his cheek in the dirt as charge crackled at his circuits. He could feel the oral lubricant drip from his mouth, just as his valve drooled lubricant all over the forest floor. Even more so with the thrusts pushing more lubricant out to create a puddle beneath them. He mewled as pinches gripped his waist and pulled him into each thrust.

He exvented wetly through his mouth, scattering pieces of the plants Tarantulas and he had found themselves tumbling into during their fight. The young Maximal definitely didn’t expect those plants to affect them the way they did.

Which was to say, them becoming overcharged and fragging.

Tarantulas made a clicking sound behind him as he leaned down and rubbed his mandibles against his shoulder, the spider legs on his back making their own weird noise as well. Cheetor just huffed as the noise started getting louder, the spider’s thrusts also getting a bit rougher and stronger, causing the cheetah former to yelp and bury his face behind his hand.

Cheetor’s legs shook as more lubricant spattered to the ground faster with each movement. Moans and whines leaving his vocalizer as his engine sputtered and fans whirred high to the point of almost whining. Even as his charge ratcheted higher and higher, Cheetor had the fleeting thought of warning the other Maximals to avoid this area before it disappeared with the burst of overload wracking his frame.


	29. Day 28 - Overstimulation/Incest [IDW Sideswipe/Sunstreaker]

Fans and engines roared as Sunstreaker thrashed in his bonds, muffled static echoing from behind the gag in his mouth as he tried to twist away from Sideswipe. The red mech just purred his engine in response as he continued rolling his hips into his twins oversensitive valve. Lubricant and transfluid coated their thighs and made a puddle of the yellow twin’s aft from the many overloads both had.

Sideswipe bit his bottom lip, his own spike sensitive from the stimulation of so many overloads. But he wasn’t done yet. He had a goal of getting Sunstreaker to reach a certain amount of overloads and they weren’t there yet. Overstimulation on both of their ends wasn’t going to stop him either. The red twin was more than willing to suffer the overuse of his spike if it got his aggressive twin into a pliant puddle of metal.

He looked down as an engine whined. Smirking down at the pleading look in Sunstreaker’s optics as he slowly worked his charge higher again. He shook his helm, dragging his hands up yellow plating and scratching at black painted hips.

“C’mon Sunny. Just a few more. A few more overloads for me, that’s all I want. Okay?”

Sunstreaker whined in response, back arching as his hips rocked and valve fluttered.

Oh yeah. Sideswipe was definitely going to be able to get him to overload more.


	30. Day 29 - Hand Jobs/Oral Fixation/Micro-Macro [BW Rattrap/Dinobot]

Dinobot nipped along Rattrap’s thighs as his hand stroked the rat’s spike. Glossa flicking out to brush along the stinging armor after each nip of his teeth. He chuckled as a sharp nip to the joint cables had Rattrap jumping, the smaller mech yelping and scolding him for it. The raptor just let his engine rumble in a purr as he laved his glossa against the cables before pulling back.

Keeping the rat’s spike still with his hands pressing against his crotchplate, Dinobot leaned down and dragged his glossa from base to tip of the surprisingly large spike. Satisfaction thrumming in his spark at the moan he got from the action. He didn’t spend long licking the heavy weight before carefully placing the tapered tip in his mouth and going down.

The groan Rattrap let out had heat racing through Dinobot’s frame, his valve clenching on nothing and dripping lubricant on the slowly growing puddle already on the floor. A hand on his helm had him letting out a growl, just daring Rattrap to even _ try _ pushing his head down. His optics glared up, the green bright and almost bleached from the charge he was feeling.

Rattrap just grinned, his own red optics dark as he looked down at the enticing sight of Dinobot swallowing his spike. And swallow he did, the motion actually causing Rattrap to jump a bit at the sudden pressure against the head of his spike as Dinobot swallowed around the intrusion.

Optics darkening a bit, Dinobot placed his teeth gently on Rattrap’s spike. And dragged _ up_.


	31. Day 30 - Temperature Play/Degradation [IDW Tarn/Pharma]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea how to even write degradation so just take it. Can probably be considered dub-con because it _is_ Tarn and Pharma.

“Look at you Pharma. You’re leaking everywhere, even though your valve can barely take my spike.” Tarn purred, dragging his claws up the medic jet’s splayed thighs as he rolled his hips. Lubricant was smeared against both their thighs and staining the snow beneath them.

“T-Tarn!” Pharma grint his denta as he arched his back, turbine whirring and heating high enough to melt the snow and ice beneath him. Even with his frame heated from the charge crackling along his circuits, the medic was shaking, his frame cold from the snow and ice he was being fragged into.

Tarn appeared almost unaffected as he continued the slow in and out drag of his spike, uncaring of the wind and snow that most likely was seeping into his joints from where he knelt. His frame was burning from where they were connected, and Pharma wanted it as much as he disliked Tarn and the fact he thought it was an excellent idea to do this outside like a barbarian.

“Perhaps I’ll overload over your frame, stain you with my mark and let it freeze on your plating. Would you like that Pharma? Wearing my frozen mark as you head back and see your subordinates?”

“Don’t you dare.” Pharma hissed, baring his denta as he reached down and clawed uselessly at the tanks larger hands.

Tarn’s dark optics flared before darkening again, a hidden grin sliding on behind his mask as he tightened his grip on his medic’s hips, claws digging into plating and seams as he leaned down.

“We’ll see about that my dear Pharma.”


	32. Day 31 - Free Day (A/B/O) [IDW Glavatron/Hot Rod]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit, no smut in this one.
> 
> I actually have no idea how IDW Galvatron is like so I'm taking liberties here. I'll probably take this and make it into its own longer fic idea.

Galvatron frowned as he stared down at the hissing minibot. The yellow spoiler was shaking on the red mech’s back even as he pressed himself into a wall. His  _ frame _ was shaking so much his grip on the blaster in his hands wasn’t even focusing on him well enough to even land a hit. The purple mech wondered what idiots let an  _ omega _ on the cusp of heat out on the battlefield.

Even he wasn’t stupid enough to send any of his soldiers out if they were close to a heat or rut. Either one spelled trouble on the battlefield and he wasn’t putting them at risk like that. A whine from the minibot had Galvatron focusing back on the tiny mech. And Unicron’s pit was the thing tiny. Smaller than some minibot’s he’s met, and Galvatron himself was a large mech, easily reaching the size of a tank even though he wasn’t one.

He shook his helm to rid his processor of scattered thoughts to focus back on the minibot who had by now dropped his blaster from the shaking he was doing. He was curled up against the wall, arms wrapped around his middle and releasing static-filled whines from his vocalizer. He narrowed his optics. If the mech was part of a team, they had most likely left him behind already.

Galvatron wasn’t going to leave the mech alone. Not in this state. The omega would be safer with him until his heat dissipated. Processor made up, the Unicronian stepped forward with sure steps, barely faltering even as his movements got a terrified whimper and the omega rolling to try to scuttle away.

He didn’t get far.

With quick reflexes, Galvatron gripped the back of the omega’s collar faring and lifted the mech up with ease, throwing the minibot over his shoulder, and wrapping his hand around a leg, turned and started walking away. Ignoring the clawing at his back and distressed vocalizations escaping the omega.

He’d had the omega over to Cyclonus once he got back to base. The older omega would take care of the young one while his heat ravaged his frame until it was over and they could send the little thing back.

Or keep him. Galvatron wasn’t against keeping such a pretty thing.

**Author's Note:**

> Edit: Also got a discord if anyone's interested in screaming about Transformers I guess. https://discord.gg/D23G8Y3  
Edit 2: I'm open to prompts/requests on my [tumblr](https://kiyuoswritings.tumblr.com/) or [pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.social/KiyuoHonoo) if anyone wants to throw something at me.


End file.
